It has been a while since I have written a story. I thought it was time. Here's a little something that has been swirling around in my head for some time. I finally got 'pen to paper' and starting writing it down. Something to get me back into the rhythm of storytelling :-)

The first time it happened it caught me by surprise. But I look back now and realise that maybe it wasn't such a surprise after all.

It was the day I almost lost her; the day that serial killer bastard, Dennis Rockmond, held a knife to her throat. Every detail of those minutes – those very long minutes – have stayed with me. I think they will always stay with me. The panic I felt when I realised Maura was with him… I've never felt such terror in all my life. My emotions were high, but I couldn't let them get in the way. I knew Maura needed Jane the detective, not just Jane the best friend. I needed a clear head to think things through, but my mind couldn't help but scroll through every possibility.

When we stormed the place and I saw her with him my head was a mess with fear. Fear, but also determination. I wasn't going to let him have her. I knew I had to save her, regardless of those nagging thoughts about what I would do without her; what I would do if I couldn't save her.

The nightmares I had for the weeks afterwards may have dissipated, but I will never forget the fear I saw in Maura's eyes that day. I will never forget the sound of her voice begging for him to stop; begging for me to save her. I will never forget the relief I felt when he let her go and she fell into my arms.

After all the interviews were over, and all the statements had been taken, I made my way to the morgue where I found Maura perched on the edge of her desk. She was doubting herself again. I could see it in her body language. Questioning herself about how she did not see it coming. Regardless of how many times she was told that she couldn't have known; regardless of how many people told her, Maura still hadn't forgiven herself for not realising that the man she was dating, the man she was getting to know, was a killer. Worse still that he had planned on killing her.

I made my way into her office and perched myself beside her. I heard her take in a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

"I didn't see it. I should have seen it," she whispered, almost as if she were just talking to herself – voicing the thoughts racing around in her head.

"Maura…" I began, looking down at my hands as they idly soothed the scars on my palms.

"I know, Jane. I know what you're going to say," she stressed as she pushed herself off the desk and began pacing her office. "But I was… I was in his living room, and… and he was talking about…" her voice faltered as her memory seemed to take her back to the moment.

"He was talking about… about the human form, and… and… how much pride he takes in his work," she continued as she paced and gestured wildly with her arms. "Jane I was… awed. I was in awe of him," she finished, before she turned to me defeated, arms hanging by her sides, looking to me for the answers.

"Come on, Maura," I pleaded, pushing off the desk towards her. I took her hands in mine and intertwined our fingers, hoping to bring her comfort.

"You aren't a mind reader, you know?" I reassured, seeking out her eyes that were looking anywhere but at me. "And it's just in your nature to see the best in people."

"You mean I'm naive," she murmured, dropping her head even more.

I dropped one of her hands and lifted her chin, encouraging her to look at me.

"No, Maura, not naïve," I countered, searching her eyes for any signs of understanding. "You are the most… the most warm, kind-hearted, gentle soul that I have ever known."

I cupped the side of her face, keeping her eyes locked with mine. I wanted her to see the sincerity of my words.

"In our line of duty, do you know how rare that is?" I pleaded. "I envy your naivety, if that's what you want to call it."

She searched my eyes, seemingly looking for any word of a lie. But there was no lie. Maura is rare and special. She has always been, and I know that despite our line of work – surrounded by death and murderers – she will continue to be.

Her eyes continued to search as I realised how close we were standing and how intimate our bodies were embraced. My thumb gently caressed her face, marvelling at how soft her skin was. I dropped my gaze to watch it as it passed over her cheek; watched as my fingers tucked a stray hair behind her ear. That's when I realised what I was feeling.

My heart was beating so fast and my stomach was twisting in knots. My eyes were drawn to her lips and I realised I wanted to kiss them. The shock of such a thought brought me to my senses and I lifted my eyes to hers, only to find that her eyes had shut and a single tear was running down her cheek.

I brushed it away with my thumb before pulling her into my arms, and I held her until she wanted to let go.

At the time I blamed the craziness of the day. I thought it was just a combination of relief and happiness and the aftermath of a day of heightened fear and stress that made me react the way I did.

I'm not sure what she thought happened in that moment. I'm not sure if she saw my eyes linger on her lips. She might have heard my heart racing had she not been so distraught. But that was the first time I almost kissed her.